


Little Red Dot

by jedirangerpenguin



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Councilor Anderson, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Self-Doubt, technically ME2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26942632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedirangerpenguin/pseuds/jedirangerpenguin
Summary: Writing a biography is proving harder than Anderson expected. Luckily, Kahlee's around to help.~~~Anderson ran his hand back along his head, looking for words. “I just don’t get it,” he finally said. “Why me? What’s there to talk about?”“First N7, first captain of the Normandy, first human Councilor. You’re right, nothing interesting there.”“You know what I mean.”“I don’t.”
Relationships: David Anderson/Kahlee Sanders
Comments: 10
Kudos: 7





	Little Red Dot

Anderson had been skeptical when the idea had first been pitched. He didn’t understand how anyone could want to read a book about him, much less go through the effort of writing one.

But as it turned out, there were a lot of people after his story. The brass insisted it was good for Alliance image to share the story behind the first N7, and a survivor of the First Contact War. Human interest groups and Council PR maintained that documenting the “rise” (god, he hated that word) of the first human Councilor was critical to the narrative of galactic history. Apparently, there had been a long list of projects on the table. The biographer who’d finally been assigned to the story had let slip that someone in the Alliance had pushed for the whole matter to be addressed at once, in one book, instead.

Anderson owed Hackett some really nice whiskey.

Sure, he could see where they were coming from, and theoretically it was much less complicated than the sorts of things the Alliance and the Council had asked him to do in the past. That didn’t mean he agreed with the principle. Or that he had any idea what he was supposed to actually _do._

Anderson stared at the little red “record” button on the datapad in his hand. This should be easy, right? Just write a biography.

It should be easy.

“Uh, well,” he said into the pad, “hello.”

Immediately, he was doubting himself. Did he need to say “hello?” The biographer didn’t need to hear greetings. Unless they did? Some biographies used audio clips. Should he introduce himself? That made sense for a book, and it was easy enough. Admiral David Edward Anderson. He’d said it a thousand times.

Easy.

The button flashed at him; he’d been quiet too long. “Uh, so,” he said quickly, “I’m Dadmiral-”

Anderson stopped, grimaced, and barely withheld a groan. “ _Admiral, David,_ ” he said deliberately, “Edward Anders-”

“You might want to re-record that.” Kahlee’s voice echoed out of the nearby bedroom. Anderson sighed and hit the pause button. A minute in and the project was proving as nightmarish as he’d feared.

“Well, now I’ll have to,” he called back.

“Just trying to help!”

“Mhm.”

Anderson ran a hand across his chin as he frowned down at the pad. Twenty years of service, and he was being bested by a little red dot.

Like a cat.

Minutes stretched on in silence as he stared at the little light. He didn’t hear Kahlee arrive in the hall, but he felt her eyes on him a moment before she spoke.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Anderson almost wanted to laugh. Instead he slumped back on the couch with a sigh. “This _shouldn’t_ be difficult,” he said. “Why is it?”

“David, when’s the last time you talked about yourself?”

Anderson’s mouth twitched. He should have expected she’d say something of the sort; Kahlee always told things exactly as they were.

He’d always loved that about her.

“And I can’t even say I didn’t ask,” he admitted with amusement.

“Because you did.”

He could hear the grin on her voice.

“Do you mind?” Anderson glanced back at her, and a smile finally played across his lips. “I am trying to work.”

“Uh huh.” Kahlee crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. Anderson shook his head and looked back to the pad. He hit the button again after a moment of thought.

“Alright. Admiral David Edward Anderson,” he said, careful not to meld the first two words this time. “Uh…”

What was he supposed to say after that? Should he start at the beginning? Did anyone care about that? “I was born in London, on…” Anderson sighed and stopped the recording again. “No, that’s not it.”

“Try being a little more lifeless and uninteresting,” Kahlee supplied. “That should really get the audience.”

Anderson held back a chuckle and turned around to fully face her over the back of the couch. “Okay,” he said into the pad, making direct eye contact with Kahlee. “ _Tombstone data_.” Kahlee grinned. “Admiral David Edward Anderson. Not sure why anyone would be interested, but thanks for asking.” He paused the recording and asked, “That better?”

“You at least sound like you believe it.”

“Mm.”

Kahlee shook her head and straightened up. “I’ll let you play,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder as she walked past him to the stairs. Anderson smiled, then forced himself to focus on the little red dot again.

He meant to give a short overview of his childhood, but it quickly shifted away into talking about his parents. Who they were, what they’d done, what they’d given to him. It was so much easier, more natural, to talk about them.

But, that didn’t mean it had a place in a book. He ground to a halt in the middle of a statement about what a good man his father was, and was halfway through a retraction when Kahlee called up the office.

“David? You’ve got a call. Do you want it?”

Anderson glanced up from the pad. “Who is it?”

“Sparatus’s assistant.”

Well, that couldn’t mean anything good. “Yes, I need to take that,” he called back. Anderson was halfway to the stairs before he realized the pad in his hand was still recording. “I hope this is what you’re looking for,” he said as a way to quickly sign off, even though he knew it wasn’t. How could it be? Why did it matter if he watched starships take off as a kid? “I’ll get to the more interesting N7 stuff next time.”

He quickly tucked the pad on the bookshelf and hurried down to the office. He looked for the call line on the phone, so he could figure out what on the Citadel Sparatus needed after hours.

There wasn’t a call line.

Anderson turned around to where Kahlee sat at the bar. “Kahlee? I thought you said the assistant was on the line?”

“I lied.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth again. She said it without a trace of hesitation or remorse. “And what made you think to do that?”

“I haven’t heard you that stressed since Tevos asked you to lead the Volus forum. Figured I’d save you.” Anderson chuckled faintly, and Kahlee crossed over to lightly place a hand on his arm. “David?"

"Mm?"

"Why don’t you believe you’re worth this?”

Anderson had to fight not to groan. There it was. Days and days of putting off recording, trying to unravel _why_ it was so difficult, and Kahlee laid it out in less than ten words. “Kahlee, it’s almost 1900,” he said, glancing at the clock. He knew he wasn’t getting out of the conversation, but damned if he wasn’t going to try. “Don’t you think it’s a little late for an existential crisis?”

“No.”

Of course not. Anderson ran his hand back along his head, looking for words. “I just don’t get it,” he finally said. “Why me? What’s there to talk about?”

“First N7, first captain of the Normandy, first human Councilor. You’re right, nothing interesting there.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”

Anderson sighed. “All of that… I didn’t get here on my own. There’s a long line of men and women who helped me get here, and a lot of them have put more on the line than I ever have.” His thoughts strayed momentarily to Shepard, who might very well be launching her attack against the Collector homeworld as they spoke. “And still are.”

Kahlee poked him lightly in the chest. “See, that? Right there? That’s why they want a book about you, and why they’d want one, N7 Councilor or not.”

The image that had come to mind was proving hard to shake. “Because I’m sitting comfortably on the Citadel while good men and women go out and risk their lives?”

“Because you’re humble. Because you _care._ ”

The image remained in his head. Shepard, flying alone into the lion’s den, after being denied any help from the Council. The Council he was on. His mind shifted to Alenko, off running high-risk operations with his biotics division. The one Anderson had insisted he take, while remaining safely on the Citadel and offering nothing other than words of encouragement.

How was any of that caring?

“Sure doesn’t feel like it.”

“If you don’t like it, quit.”

Anderson’s gaze startled into focus. Kahlee crossed her arms, staring him down with the relentless glint he’d sometimes seen while she was on calls with students. He studied her carefully, and figured he knew what lesson she was trying to get him to accept.

“You’re not talking about the book, are you?”

“I don’t like Udina any more than you do,” Kahlee said, confirming his statement. “But he knows how to do the job. If being away is bothering you this much, go back to the Alliance. Get back out there and do good.”

“It’s selfish,” Anderson replied instinctively.

“You are the only person I know who would call that selfish.”

Anderson hesitated. He’d gone over two years without voicing the biggest reason he stayed with the Council. The only reason he was there in the first place. “Shepard wanted me to do this.”

Kahlee’s hand landed on his shoulder, and she didn’t speak until Anderson looked at her. “Shepard would understand why you left,” she said. Worry crept into her eyes, and hesitation into her voice. “Honestly, with… everything… David, if she ever tried going back to the Alliance, she’d need you there. Not here. If you won’t do it for you, do it for her.”

Anderson smiled. Kahlee may not have ever met Shepard, but she’d always understood what Shepard meant to him.

He’d always loved that about her.

“Are you trying to use Shepard to convince me?” he joked.

Kahlee smiled back. “Is it working?”

“Mm. Unfortunately.”

“Good. Then quit moping and come make dinner with me.”

Anderson smiled and wove his fingers in between hers and she started to the kitchen. “You think I can quit the book too?” he asked.

“Nope.”

He chuckled. “You’re just saying that because you want to see what dirt they manage to dig up on me.”

“Please. No biographer is ever going to find half the things I know already.”

“Good thing they’re not interviewing you, then.”

“Oh, that’s an ide-”

Anderson tugged her toward him and lightly pressed a kiss to her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently there is actually canon regarding why Councilor Anderson decided to leave and return to the Alliance. I have elected to ignore this in favor of fluffy nonsense.


End file.
